


if ever I should leave you

by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Existential Crisis, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Photography, Rating May Change, Small Towns, more or less
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/pseuds/thewayofthetrashcompactor
Summary: only putting up a little bit for now, I got behind this month, but fic for the Reylo Readers/Writers moodboard challenge! theresonatinglight made the lovely moodboard this is based on, which I'll get updated and uploaded soon. Thanks for the inspo!
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Reylo Readers & Writers - The Marvellous Moodboard Event





	if ever I should leave you

**Author's Note:**

> only putting up a little bit for now, I got behind this month, but fic for the Reylo Readers/Writers moodboard challenge! theresonatinglight made the lovely moodboard this is based on, which I'll get updated and uploaded soon. Thanks for the inspo!

Ben sweeps into town with the remnants of the last winter storm, all bitter wind and nearly-frozen rain that howls around him as the season gives one last tantrum before giving way to spring. It suits Ben’s mood as he drives through the huddled cluster of shops that make up the main part of the village. He scowls, bleary-eyed, at the few signs as he passes, his mind having a hard time imagining this as a place where people live, compared to the city he’d driven through the night to get away from. His mood only darkens as he follows half-remembered directions to the old house he hasn’t seen for a decade. 

Somehow he finds the place, against all odds, and he finds it’s even smaller than he remembers. He turns his BMW into the gravel drive and watches as the nearly square building seems to shrink as he approaches. He parks at the end by the house and gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him as a strong gust of wind heralds his arrival, shoving into his back and sending icy fingers down his neck. 

“Fuck,” he grumbles, wrapping his coat tighter around him. It’s good quality but wasn’t made to stand up to the icy rain now pelting his hair. His hands curl into fists as the rain stings his face. The expletive doesn’t encompass the full force of the emotions raging inside him, so he says it again, shouting into the wind. “Fuck!”

The storm responds with another gust, this time right into his face. He grits his teeth, anger without outlet building at the back of his throat and itching at his skin. It makes him want to lash out, destroy the source, but neither the storm nor the mess he’d left behind will let him tear them apart. At worse times, not so long ago, he would’ve turned his knuckles bloody on his only source of shelter out here, but he manages to control the impulse after a few heaving breaths.

With fingers already turning numb from the cold, he opens the door and pulls his bags out of the car. He shouts and swears as he pulls them up the stairs to the porch, then has to dig out the single key to fit the lock. Once he wrangles the bags inside and the door slams shut behind him, he deflates slightly. The house has been clearly abandoned for who knows how long, acquiring a sort of stillness he’s unused to. From the short entranceway, he can see the den with a mishmash of furniture, all still in reasonable shape. He drops his bags in the entrance and continues forward into the kitchen, small but serviceable. 

Finally arriving here and seeing the place makes it finally sink in for Ben that he can’t turn back. He left everything behind that he couldn’t throw in his car: the job, the salary, the secrets, the life he’d fallen into and never looked back. He’d burned it all to the ground and was lucky enough to escape with what he had. He suddenly feels dizzy and braces himself on the plastic counter. The lack of sleep and cheap roadside coffee must be catching up to him. The anger he’s so used to retreats and dissipates as he stares at the stained floor, leaving only an emptiness in his chest and a weary ache he feels in his bones. 

Outside, the wind still howls, but its noise sounds more muted, as if it too is realizing it cannot fight the inevitability of what comes next. The rain against the windows eases from a rapid-staccato attack to a middling patter. The time for cold rage has passed, and green new life already lurks in the wings, waiting to take its place. Ben drags himself to the lumpy couch, too short for him, and kicks off his shoes. He collapses onto it with his feet hanging off the end and falls asleep to the sound of a light spring rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always appreciated!
> 
> You can also find me on [pillowfort as thelastjedi](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/906830), [tumblr as thewayofthetrashcompactor](https://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/post/632966986481221632/excited-to-share-my-fic-for-the-reylo-readers-and), and [twitter as briartrash](https://twitter.com/briartrash/status/1320406320068108294?s=20)


End file.
